


Delicious

by YourMonarch



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Eating, Emetophilia, Humiliation, M/M, Stuffing, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:59:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourMonarch/pseuds/YourMonarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack stuffs Rhys full of cock, cum, and...pudding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicious

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted Rhys throwing up on Jack's dick.

Rhys walked into the largest place on Helios and kicked off his boots. Jack’s mansion - the place he’d call home for the next 48 hours until all the water damage from the flood in his and Vaughn’s shared apartment was fixed. And also the place where Jack had his servants cooking the most amazing smell to ever bless Rhys’ nose. The lanky man walked in further, dropping his briefcase by the stairs and meandering into the large living room, where the rich scent of their meal only got more captivating. He saw Jack reclining on the couch, who stood and threw his reading glasses onto the cushion once he saw the redhead walk in.

“Hey, Cupcake!” He grinned, clad in some grey sweatpants and a yellow sweater with the sleeves rolled up. “How was your day workin’ at my fine-ass corporation?”

Rhys shrugged and began to undo his tie, giving Jack a quick kiss on the lips. “Alright, I guess. Working isn’t the best part of “fine-ass” Hyperion. It’s you.” Rhys quirked his lips into a smirk, stroking the man’s ego a bit before pulling away from the man and turning for the stairs again. “So what’s for dinner anyways? Smells good.”

Jack followed Rhys up the stairs and onto the second floor of his four layered mansion. “It’s gonna be great, Rhysie, I’ve been planning this _all_  day. You’re gonna love it, but I think I will more.”

He watched Rhys get undressed, made a grab at his ass like he always did and got a little swat back in return, and kissed at his partner’s neck when he changed into something more comfortable. Rhys tilted his head back felt Jack wrap his thick arms around him from behind, stroking over his stomach in a way that was oddly gentle - like he was pregnant or something. “What’s that supposed to mean? Did you make them cook your favorite?” Rhys squeezed at Jack’s wrists and felt him press his ringed digits into his small amount of pudge.

“Nah. You’ll see, Baby.”

* * *

Later, Rhys was introduced with a three course meal and an aged white wine. The wine alone would have Rhys pouring all his life savings away. _Literally._  But luckily, he’s dating the richest man alive and doesn’t have to worry about a damn thing. The starter was two small quail eggs for both of the men, a bit salty for Rhys’s taste, but he didn’t mind. Next was a lobster tail poached in beurre monte, and for dessert was raspberry cheesecake - one of Rhys’ all time favorite foods.

The younger of the two slumped back in his seat across the dining table from Jack and sighed, taking one last sip to finish off his wine. “Oh my god, Jack, that was amazing. But why?” He smiled, watching Jack get his cup filled and take three hearty gulps to drink it all down. He wasn’t one for savoring the taste.

“Just felt like it. Don’t have an explanation for being a five-star love fiend,” Jack winked, standing up and going over to Rhys. “Let’s go get comfortable on the couch, I’m tired of sitting in these damn chairs.” He held out one of his large, rough hands and plucked Rhys out of his seat the second he touched his hand.

Jack walked his lover to the wide cushions with recliners, seat warmers, and foot rests, then sat him down. “Hey, Pumpkin, I got somethin’ to show you. Let me grab it real quick.” And before Rhys could question him, the bulky man hurried off into the kitchen. Rhys felt his stomach ache slightly from just how much he wolfed down at dinner, but he’d just ask Jack to massage it for him when he came back. He knew the answer would be something along the lines of _'Only if you give me a blow job'_.

Rhys has closed his eyes and rested back into the couch right as Jack came back, excited as he planted down a large bowl of... _something_ right in front of him. He sat up a bit, peering suspiciously into the bowl. One eyebrow raised. Jack only knew how to make ramen and Kool-Aid on occasions, there’s _no-way_  he actually made something that wasn’t prepackaged.

“I worked hard on this, Pumpkin! It’s tapioca pudding! You told me you liked this, didn’t you?” Jack honestly looked defeated.

“Yes, of course! But, why didn’t we have this for dessert? Honestly, Jack, I’m so full I feel like I’m going to pop. Can I try it tomorrow?”

Jack’s face distorted to something enthusiastically dark when Rhys admitted how his stomach felt. This wasn’t going to take long. Perfect.

“C’mon, Baby, just a few bites,” Jack threw himself down next to Rhys and pulled him into his lap, to which the man made an uncomfortable groan. The brunette placed the bowl on top of Rhys’ lap and dunked two fingers into the pudding, pressing them up to his boy’s lips. Rhys had a color brightening up his cheeks, but he wasn’t shy, no- _fucking_ -way. This kid was always on a one way trip to slut town.

Rhys opened up his lips and wrapped them fully around Jack’s huge fingers, sucking them tenderly. He smiled a little, met Jack’s gaze, and pulled off the fingers. “It really is good. You sure you made this?”

Jack only scooped up more pudding and pushed them into his mouth, getting a whiney squawk. “Hey!” Rhys protested, but Jack just pressed down on his tongue until he stopped talking and ate. Rhys knew him well. Of course he didn’t make this shit! It was just a ploy to get the skinny boy to eat. He did add a squirt or four of ENGORE! in there, though. You know, just for fun.

Rhys slumped back into Jack’s chest, lowering his jaw obediently when the fingers in his mouth widened and added pressure. He made sure to lick between the spot where the two fingers were connected, paying special to the sensitive skin there. Jack kissed at Rhys’ neck and shoveled more of the sweet cream into the boy’s mouth, no longer letting him lick slowly and sensually at his fingers. He forced two hefty amounts into his mouth and began leaving long, hot licks up Rhys’ neck and behind his ear.

“God, Kid, I love knowing that I’m stuffing you to the fuckin’ brim,” Jack muttered, peering just for a moment to see if Rhys had swallowed everything down before shoving in another mouthful.

“W- Wait, Jack!” Rhys cried, feeling some of the pudding dribble down his chin and plop against his shirt. He swallowed, feeling himself extend even more. Jack’s hand even started rubbing his stomach, pressing and squeezing at his little chub of a tummy. “You said only a few bites! This is too much, I’m too full-”

Jack grinned. This is exactly what he wanted. He wiped his dirty fingers on his lover’s shirt and helped him tug it off. It was bound to get more dirty anyways. Rhys complained about the shifting in his stomach, but complied. When he got comfortable again, Jack gave him more of that sickly sweet pudding, getting him to cry out in distaste. He stuck his tongue out of his mouth, letting Jack wipe the tapioca onto it when he wanted. His stomach was so uncomfortable and he had only eaten a few scoops. He felt like puking just thinking about eating the whole bowl.

The sweet just kept coming, and he began hiding it in his cheeks, under his tongue, even spitting some out when he absolutely _refused_. Jack just picked up the regurgitated pudding and rubbed it on his lips.

He kept eating, and kept swallowing, feeling somehow urged on by the fact that Jack kept whispering his praises and sucking against his skin. And before Rhys knew it, his cock was hardening inside his loose pyjama pants. “J- Jack, wait, please-” Rhys whimpered, swallowing chewing the small tapioca balls and swallowing what he could without gagging.

“What is it, Kiddo? I know you can talk with your mouth full, I’ve seen you do it with my dick.” In came more pudding.

“M- My-” He shifted back against Jack’s hips, his length making a tent in his pants. His glanced down at the half finished bowl of pudding, then to Jack, who was hollering with laughter. “Oh, fuck yes! I was waiting for that shit to kick in!” Jack put the dreaded bowl on the other side of the couch and pushed Rhys into a standing position. He pulled off Rhys’ pants and tugged him back down, manipulating him into a doggy style pose. The boy started to sweat and groan in discomfort.

“There we go, Rhysie. Pretty little ass in my face.” Jack got behind Rhys, pressing his groin into Rhys’ backside, leaning over his body to shove his face into the treat placed in front of him. Like a mutt being forced to eat.

Rhys felt all the contents in his stomach swell and jostle around. The lobster, the cake, the fucking pudding. He felt so sick, but so horny. Jack loved to dose him when he was least expecting it.

Rhys lowered his face, feeling it smush on his nose, cheeks, and chin. The smell was intoxicating at this point. He wanted to vomit, but kept licking up the tapioca.

Jack had grabbed up the large bottle of lubricant that was grandly placed on the side table. He was no man to hide what he loved. While Rhys cried and moaned into his food, Jack started to work him open. Stretch his hole wide for his fat cock. He was fucking into Rhys in record time, lubing up his cock and thrusting in.

Rhys wailed out loud, burping suddenly and hiccuping back what was soon to be sweet bile all over the nice sofa. His cheeks darkened at such a crude sound, but nothing could beat being fucked raw over your own vomit. He hoped that wouldn’t happen. He knew it would.

“Jack! Jack I’m going to puke,” He whined, feeling his hard length bob and drip everywhere, making the contents in his gut swirl. He felt so warm and so gross and so turned on. He listened to what Jack said - keep eating - and that’s what he did. He licked at the pudding like his life depended on it, feeling himself stretch and clench at the same time. He tightened his throat, but distended his belly.

Jack pulled his cock out, covered in frothy lube and pre, glistening wet. Rhys immediately exhaled in relief. Jack smiled, watching his work heave life a sick cat. Poor thing. Too bad he wasn’t done with him just yet. “Rhys, Cupcake, get on the floor in front of me.”

Rhys drooped, heavy eyed, and tumbled onto the floor, scrunching his nose up as another wave of thick nausea hit him. When he came face to face with that hot girth, Jack had lathered it in pudding, the fucking _prick_. He couldn’t resist giving Jack head, though.

He pressed the very tip of his tongue into his dripping slit, tonguing it roughly as he took steady breaths through his open mouth. He could taste the salt of pre and the sweetness of the sugar, making his face twist up unpleasantly when he finally slipped the fat cockhead between his lips. Jack pressed his sticky hands around Rhys’ face and rolled his hips forward, all of the pudding smearing on the boy’s face.

The blunt tip his Rhys’ uvula, all of the pudding gathering near the front of his mouth, his head was swarming with thoughts of throwing up and that's exactly what he did.

The redhead gasped at the same time all of the contents of his stomach launched up his throat,causing a horrendously loud belch. Rhys pulled off of the cock, closing his eyes tight as the stinking, sour puke soaked Jack’s lap and exposed penis. “Oh! God, Cupcake, you weren't joking were ya?” Jack grinned, still holding his partner’s head in his hands, gripping on his lightly gelled locks. He moaned out at Rhys’ suffering, shivering abruptly as he came with a shock. Rhys spat it out immediately, heaving one more time at the salty taste. Jack pushed the head of his spent dick into that foul mouth one more time before finally pulling out and lifted his boy’s head.

Rhys looked up with tears in his eyes, light brown spit and chunks sticking to his lips and chin. He gave a crooked smile and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“You're _real_  fuckin’ pretty like that,  Baby... Let's move onto the cookies next, hm?"


End file.
